Deep beneath Manhattan's Velour Street, in an underground HYDRA base, Hodgson Barnett stood grim-faced. Around him were soldiers in full combat gear—HYDRA operatives personally selected and hardened through years of training and battlefield experience.
The base's only entrance to the outside world was a vertical elevator, sealed by a massive reinforced gate. The chamber itself was surrounded by groundwater, a reminder of how isolated and hidden this installation was. Even with cutting-edge HYDRA engineering protecting it, Barnett felt a pang of unease.
Each soldier wore a Bluetooth earpiece, their expressions grim, bodies tense, ready for combat.
Boom.
The sound of machinery reverberated through the chamber. On the monitor beside him, Barnett watched as the elevator descended rapidly—its floor numbers ticking down at alarming speed.
Ding.
The elevator stopped. Its doors slid open.
Silence.
The stillness was suffocating, like the pause before a thunderstorm. Sweat beaded on the brows of even the most disciplined HYDRA soldiers.
Shua.
The silence lasted only a moment.
A shadowy figure appeared among the soldiers without warning, like a ghost materializing from the darkness. An icy aura swept through the chamber, and the temperature plummeted.
The phantom opened its mouth and let out a bone-chilling roar. Startled, the HYDRA operatives panicked, raising their rifles and opening fire wildly.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Gunfire echoed through the chamber, muzzle flashes strobing in the dark. Every bullet tore straight through the figure—but instead of falling, the phantom remained, untouched.
Instead, one by one, HYDRA soldiers jerked and collapsed. Blood sprayed from bullet wounds that had appeared in their own bodies.
Peng! Peng! Peng!
Barnett's eyes widened in horror as his men fell around him. Their shots hadn't touched the phantom at all—it was as if they were shooting themselves.
"F***! Stop firing! Don't shoot!" Barnett screamed, his voice cracking with desperation.
He was no fool. As a HYDRA field leader, he quickly realized the truth. The phantom wasn't flesh and blood—it was an illusion.
Still, his men kept firing, deaf to his orders. The stench of rot wafted from the ghostly figure's gaping mouth. The sound of its roars rattled through their skulls, leaving them dizzy, disoriented, and terrified.
Chi—chi—chi…
Then, without warning, the great metal gate slid open.
Allens floated in, calm and cold.
The truth was simple: Mike Colby had been kept alive only for this moment. Using Colby's eye for retinal scan access, Allens had forced the gate open. Now, his broken body collapsed at the base of the scanner, eyes full of horror as he looked at the man hovering in the air.
Allens had learned of the Manhattan base's location. And he had come to deliver a lesson HYDRA would never forget.
Peng.
Colby's corpse hit the ground with a dull thud.
Allens' eyes glowed faintly as the illusion faded, the phantom vanishing into nothing. But it had already served its purpose—sowing terror.
Hovering in the air, he extended his palm, then flipped it upward. Invisible force surged. In an instant, dozens of HYDRA soldiers were yanked from the floor, their bodies frozen in midair.
"Now," Allens said coldly. His voice echoed like judgment. "Surrender… or die."
His gaze swept over them with disdain, as if they were insects.
"You bastard—what kind of ability is this?" one agent spat through gritted teeth, though his trembling betrayed his fear.
But Allens' compulsion was absolute. His power gnawed at their minds, forcing them to confront their deepest instincts. Which mattered more—their loyalty to HYDRA, or their own lives?
Barnett could see the conflict burning in his men's eyes.
Then it broke.
"Long live HYDRA!" Half the soldiers shouted defiantly as they bit down on their hidden poison capsules. One by one, their bodies went limp as the toxin claimed them. Allens didn't even bother stopping them.
The other half cracked under the pressure.
"I—I don't want to die… I surrender!"
"I surrender too! Don't kill me!"
Once one voice gave in, the rest followed. Soon nearly half of the elite HYDRA operatives were begging for their lives, suspended helplessly in Allens' invisible grip.
Allens smirked, satisfied. His gaze shifted to Hodgson Barnett. "Now… it's your turn."
The invisible force around Barnett tightened. His bones creaked audibly, pain flashing across his face. He struggled to breathe, crimson creeping into his skin.
But even as his body strained, his mind raced. He knew HYDRA. It was vast, but not unified. Factions fought within factions. Its cohesion wasn't what it had been during the Second World War.
And now, standing before him, was the most terrifying superhuman he had ever seen.
Finally, Barnett bowed his head.
"I… Hodgson Barnett… surrender. I only hope I won't regret this choice."
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